The images from when he passed out still lingered in his mind with surprising clarity. He remembered the spark that started it all, and the immense net that wrapped around it like a living thing. That net, shifting with curves, arcs, and invisible slopes... that was Spacetime. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he did.
He narrowed his focus, locking onto the subtle lines that shaped the world around him, especially the invisible slope that tugged him downward. Then, without knowing exactly how, he adjusted it—just slightly, made it less steep.
And something shifted.
Suddenly, his body felt lighter. Not floating, not weightless, but as if it had been relieved of a burden it didn’t know it was carrying. There was less pressure on his knees, his breath came easier, and each movement felt just a bit freer, less constrained.
Encouraged, he reversed the tilt, sending the slope the other way—and immediately felt the opposite effect: pressure crushing down, like an invisible boulder pressing on his shoulders, dragging every limb earthward.
He let go, and the slope reverted to normal, just like that.
A slow breath escaped his lips as the sensation faded, but the wonder stayed. He had just bent gravity to his will! Not completely, not dramatically, but enough to feel it. Enough to know. He could make things heavier. He could make things lighter. And that... that was awesome!
To test it further, he grabbed a small rock from the ashen ground, rough and cold in his palm. He tossed it lightly a few times, feeling its weight, memorizing the way it rose and fell. Then, during one of the throws, he focused. He tuned in to the curve around the stone, subtle as a thread, and tilted it upward.
The effect was immediate. The rock slowed mid-air, like it was passing through mud. Its descent became sluggish, hesitant.
He blinked, held the curve for a second longer, then released. The rock dropped sharply, landing on his palm again.
Cool.
He decided to try something else. Gripping the rock tightly, he threw it hard into the distance—but right at the moment of release, he focused, flattening as much as he could the slope around it. For a split second, the shift held, and—damn—the thing shot up and forward, barely arcing, like gravity had forgotten it existed.
“Ah!! Fuck!”
A sharp pulse stabbed through his skull, and he staggered, clutching his head as the world fuzzed for a heartbeat.
Shit… too far.
He waited until the pain dulled to a throb behind his eyes, then tried again, more careful this time. Instead of throwing anything, he simply looked, picking a rock a few steps away and nudging the slope beneath it—very slightly. Just enough to see it shift in place. The effort burned more the further out he reached, like stretching a muscle past its limit.
So that was the limit, huh. Fair enough. Keep it close then.
He exhaled, steadying his breath, and calmed the storm in his head. Then, standing tall in the grey dust, he centered himself. Carefully, he bent the slope around him—barely anything, just a soft tug upward.
And then, he jumped.
It was subtle, but he felt it—the air caught him a moment longer, the arc of his leap smoother, cleaner. He didn’t fly, didn’t float, but it was like his body agreed to be airborne for just a little more time than it should.
He landed lightly, knees bending, barely a sound as the dust puffed beneath him.
A grin tugged at his mouth. What if…
An idea sparked in his mind and refused to let go. The headache was already starting to build, but—fuck it. He focused on his pulse, his breathing, syncing with the steady rhythm in his chest. The air around him responded, pressure shifting, threads pulling—Air Magika flooding in like a whisper turned wind.
Air Gear
He triggered it without hesitation. Then, right after, he bent the slope beneath him—gravity itself, the invisible pull dragging him toward the ground—and eased it.
And with that—he flew.
He felt the air rush past his skin, the pressure drop in his ears, the pull of the sky instead of the ground. His body was light, weightless, a leaf caught in the wind.
If Air Gear let him fly, then this—this was soaring.
He laughed, a raw, joyful sound torn from his throat as he cut through the air. He didn’t care how far he went, or how long it lasted. For once, he wasn’t running. He wasn’t fighting. He wasn’t cursing at fuckers in the sky above.
He was flying, far from the blood and filth, far from the weight of the world.
Even if it wasn’t real. Even if it wouldn’t last.
He wanted to feel it. Just once. Freedom.
The headache worsened, pain tightening around his skull with every second, but he grit his teeth and pushed through it. Just a bit more.
He flipped backwards, let himself fall, then pulled up at the last moment—diving and rising in one smooth arc, cutting through air like a blade through silk.
It was fantastic.
And yet—
He exhaled sharply as he released the slope and the current all at once. Gravity reclaimed him. Air Gear vanished. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, knees buckling slightly as the ache in his head surged.
That was as far as the mental strain would let him go.
Controlling Spacetime, Hope realized, was demanding. Even minor changes to the curves around him put noticeable pressure on his mind. Maybe he should throw another point into the skill—ease the load a bit with a proper gear. That would help.
But then again… he was already fully equipped—five gears, two accessories. Swapping anything meant sacrificing something else, and he didn’t exactly have a surplus of options to begin with.
He frowned, eyes narrowing as the thought came to him. Should he ditch one of the Magika Sensing slots for a Spacetime gear? The boost would be nice, but the cost... he’d lose a chunk of Magia, and more importantly—he wasn’t done with that damn requirement yet.
-Any two Magika Handling Skills equal or above Level 7 [Achieved]
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-Magika Sensing equal or above Level 7 [Not Achieved]
He needed one more level on it to finally get this Progress Gate over with.
He headed back to Eve, grabbed his backpack, downed a Clarity Draught, and dropped into his chair. Reclined it all the way back, flat like a bed.
Then, with a slow breath, he emptied his mind fully. Just let it all go.
And like that, he took a much-needed nap.
When he opened his eyes again, the headache had mostly faded. He sat up, rubbed his face, and then… focused.
He reached out, extending his senses as far as they could go. Magika—thin threads, swirling dots, sharp sparks—it was everywhere. He focused on each type he knew: the crisp breeze of Air, the warmth of Heat, the chill of Water, the restless hum of Electromagnetic.
He wondered why they were like this. Why some Magika like Kinetic clung inside objects, locked and heavy, while Spacetime was... everywhere.
Strange.
No… not strange. It had a kind of logic. A structure. A rhythm he could almost understand, even if he didn’t have the words for it yet.
This new world of Magika—how long had he been inside it? Two weeks? Less?
A month ago, he was freezing to death in some camp, clinging to life like a rat under a boot, the last one standing. And now... now he was here. On this damn planet. This twisted coliseum, this blood-drenched stage for the amusement of those sick bastards watching from above.
And somehow, he was flying. Bending gravity. Turning weight into wind.
It hit him, all at once—how far he’d come.
What came next? Who the hell was he becoming?
A mythical warrior like the campfire tales, slicing through legends as if they were made of paper? Hope for the damned, like Mano wanted? Or just... a free soul, drifting wherever his heart pulled him?
What was his dream?
His ambition?
Back then, it was just to survive. Right now... it was still mostly that.
But if he got stronger… what then?
What if he had the power to really change something?
What if...
Suddenly, something shifted. His perception tilted. His body tensed.
He snapped to focus, eyes locking onto the faint translucent screen at the edge of his vision.
He swallowed hard.
??Magika Sensing (Level 6?7 + 5)
Magika leaves fingerprints on the world. You’ve learned to spot the smudges.
? 60% increase in Magika perception.
? +300 Magia permanently.
*** Tier 1 - Progress Gate — Completed ***
Level Lock — Lifted
Reward: Grade Enhancement: C6?C4
Feat Awarded:
- (???) [I]
?? (???) [I]
Congrats, Hope.
? +1 to Bonus Enhancement Limit of all Tier 1 Skills.
? +1 to all Tier 1 Skills.
Hope wasn’t sure how to react. He had to keep his cool, had to breathe steady and stay composed, but—holy shit.
What the hell was all this?
His Grade changed? Didn’t Eve say Grade was fixed from birth? And what about that feat? Why did it say Awarded instead of Achieved like usual? And those three damn question marks… and most of all—
Why the hell was his name on the feat!?
And the effect... wait... wait a fuckin' second.
His eyes widened as the meaning behind the effect finally settled in.
You have to be fuckin’ kidding me!
He snapped to his screen, and locked in on Magika Sensing.
??Magika Sensing (Level 7 + 6)
Magika leaves fingerprints on the world. You’ve learned to spot the smudges.
? 65% increase in Magika perception.
? +380 Magia permanently.
Plus… plus six?!
The bonus cap had changed from five to six!
Hope knew well enough how that worked by now. Skills had a base level—from 1 to 10—that reflected your actual mastery. Then there were the bonus levels, usually coming from gear or accessories. Eve had mentioned you could also get some of those from rare feats, like hitting level ten in a skill, or by finding some absurdly rare natural treasures or artifact-shit. But one thing was supposed to be set in stone: no matter the source, bonus levels could not go beyond five.
And yet—he blinked again, just to be sure.
It said six. It really fucking said six.
This was a cheat!
But even more than that, what really caught his eye as he skimmed through all his skills… was the fact that every single one had gone up by one bonus level. Every damn one. Even the old Cooking skill!
??Cooking (Level 2 + 1)
You’ve made fire and fed the flame. The body remembers warmth.
? Food you cook manually restores +30% more stamina.
? +10 Physis permanently.
So many juicy extra stats and benefits. Hell yeah!
And then there was the Grade… that also affected how many stats he gained per level, right? It was something like 29 Physis and 5 Magia per level at C6, so what about now—C4? He’d have to be careful about it, but maybe drop the topic casually with Eve sometime. Or wait—he could just hold off until his next level up and find out then. That worked too.
And did it work backward? He checked his stats, but—ugh, too much math. He’d gotten so many boosts from skills it was impossible to tell what came from what. Whatever.
He stared at the screen for a moment longer, then slowly shook his head, doing his best not to draw attention.
But… damn, it was hard.
After all, he’d just broken not one, but three of the supposed limits Eve had mentioned. One—he’d pushed Spacetime talent beyond the Magus limit. Two—his Grade, something that was meant to be fixed for life, had changed. And three—he could now get more than five bonus levels per skill.
It was just—what the hell was happening to him?
Forget the fact that the feat also slapped a plus one onto every damn skill. What kind of cheat-code bullshit was that?
Was the fuckin’ System spoiling him or something? Stalking him like Eve did? Was he some kind of chosen one?
None of it made sense.
Was this perhaps all just another layer in the show, some twisted part of the play meant to drive him insane? Was Eve part of it too—another puppet, another liar?
But… she didn’t seem like one.
Hope exhaled slowly.
Alright, that’s enough!
Shit happens. You adapt. That’s it.
He didn’t need answers right now. Didn’t need to understand why.
He gained power—fine. Then use it.
He nodded to himself, breath steadying, pulse easing as he grounded his thoughts. Whatever had happened, scripted or not, he’d ride the wave like always. If he was a fool dancing in someone else’s play, or the System’s twisted little favorite, he'd find out eventually.
For now… he focused.
All his skills had ticked up. His stats had spiked.
Grade: C4
Level 50
Physis: 3654 (+727) [+100]
Magia: 875 (+213)[+220]
Great. Let’s push it further.
New gear. More credits. Higher levels—
Time to get back to grinding.